


The Binding

by lisachan



Series: City of Hidden Houses [10]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Nephilim prepare to welcome new blood to try and save their people from extinction, the Consul summons Jace to the Gard to discuss the matter of his family name. Jace isn't ready, Sebastian isn't prepared. Somehow, though, they manage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Binding

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo, had you lost all hopes that we'd ever update this story again? I hope not :D

He stole one of Sebastian’s t-shirts, this morning.

When he woke up, Sebastian was still asleep. It almost never happens (Sebastian likes to wake up very early, get out of the dimensional apartment for a jog around whatever city their place decided to stop for the night, then come in early, have some fruit – he seems to have developed an insane passion for fruit, he could feed of that alone, Jace has no idea how he even manages, he used to eat so much meat back when hunger was a feeling he could still acknowledge, back when there was something inside of him that wasn’t just pain and dread and longing and need – then wake him up by mocking him; he’s so much more active than Jace is, he’s got so much fuel inside himself, Jace has to wonder, was it the prison who made him like this, was it all those years of stillness, all that loneliness, is it Sebastian pumped up and moving twice as fast as everyone else is or is it Jace that’s grown too slow to follow?), so Jace took his time to enjoy the moment. 

It’s almost impossible for him, these days, to take a moment to just look at Sebastian. He likes to do it because it’s weirdly unsettling – the way he looks so much like Valentine but a whole set of different emotions is linked to his face, to the lines of his shoulders, to the curve of his back, to his relaxed features as he sleeps. It’s hard to feel a lot of things, recently, everything somehow comes down to grief, sooner or later, but not that specific emotional set that comes from Sebastian, not anymore. The pain when they fight, the pleasure when they don’t, the warmth of proximity when they’re just sharing space, those emotions rise above everything else, those Jace can feel, they don’t get dragged down to melt with the loss. 

This morning, they were on a beach. He didn’t know where exactly, but he could smell the salt of the sea, hear its roar beyond the white curtains moving gently to the breeze, and Sebastian, sleeping peacefully by his side, was as blinding and beautiful as a new dawn, his thin pale hair shining in the first light of day, his white skin so smooth, like marble, his powerful muscles relaxed, his expression soft and clear. Jace moved closer to him, careful not to wake him up. The silence surrounding them, that special kind of silence that’s nature speaking when people cannot talk, was so deep and vast he felt as though they were alone in the whole world. There was no Institute to come back to, no Alec to solve issues with, no Clave to respond to, no Tommy… no Tommy to think about. Life always feels so easy, really, when he’s alone with Sebastian. He can concentrate better on the simple things when they’re just together, in the company of one another. He can concentrate on Sebastian’s roughness, on how he hits hard against the walls of his pain to tear them down. He can concentrate on the exposed, pulsing, hurting thing he feels when he’s in his hands. Sebastian pushes everything away so easily. He’s got a magic touch – the power to empty him out of all the pain, and fill him only with relief.

He’s watched him for as long as he had time for – then he’s had to get up and away from him. It didn’t feel good, so he wrapped himself in something that could remind him of his brother. He thought he might use it, especially considering where he’s going, and what he has to do.

He's torturing the hem of it as he sits on a chair in front of Jia Penhallow's desk, waiting for her to arrive. The fact itself that she's having him wait is making even more nervous than he already was. He wishes he'd asked Sebastian to come with him. He'd have said no, of course, but at least Jace would've had an excuse to be angry at him when he went back home, which would've given him something else to concentrate on as he waits. Instead, there's nothing on his mind except the fact that he's here, now, waiting for the Consul to arrive, thinking about what she wants.

She was very clear when she contacted him – Jace, she said, we have to talk about your family name.

Which really means she wants to talk about way more than just his surname.

Despite having spent the last few months holed up in a constantly traveling house, Jace is aware of what's going on in the Nephilim world, outside the safe, reassuring wall of the suspended reality bubble where he lives with Sebastian. The fact that he'd rather not have anything to do with it doesn't mean he doesn't know about it. The Nephilim are at a loss, they've been decimated by three consecutive wars, whole families have been destroyed, completely wiped away from existence, and those who are left are but a few, confused, scattered around and utterly lost. 

At a time like this, all the Nephilim need to be called back to their roots, they need to step up, do something not to let their heritage get lost.

As far as Jace is concerned, though, the question of his heritage is far more complex than he feels ready to face right now.

"Sorry for having you wait," Jia says, walking into the room and quickly sitting behind her desk with a low sigh of relief. She looks tired, exhausted, actually. Jace imagines she's not having the easiest of days. Or weeks. Or, well, decades. "I was just speaking with Alec, actually."

Jace tenses on his seat, his fingers clutching around the fabric of Sebastian's t-shirt. "Alec is here?"

Jia watches him carefully and silently for quite a long time, and then nods slowly. "You could go say hi, you know," she says, "He should still be around. You've been waiting for me a long time, I wouldn't mind waiting for you a few minutes too."

Jace looks down, swallowing hard. It's not as if he doesn't want to see Alec – on the contrary, he misses him madly. Just his physical presence, actually, he misses that enough already to feel sick when he thinks about it. He's lived with him since he can remember, he got used, over the years, to consider him an irreplaceable part of his life, Alec's always been there to pull him back down to earth whenever he was flying too high on the wings of his undying restlessness, and that too, along with too many things for Jace to count now, got irreparably destroyed with Clary's death.

He can't bear to see Alec now, not with all the folds and ruffles they should straighten before they can even start thinking about interacting peacefully with one another. He's got too much on his mind right now – Alec'll have to wait.

"No, it's fine," he finally says, shaking his head, "I'd rather just get over with this."

"This," Jia smiles quite sadly, "Being what I called you here for, right?"

Jace simply nods, without uttering a word. He already knows what the topic of this conversation will be. He wishes Jia didn't have to be such a gentle soul, he wishes she could be more like Robert. Robert's the kind of man who doesn't try and sugar the pill -- if he's got something to tell you, no matter how uncomfortable that'll make you, he'll just speak it out loud for you to hear and then expect you to act upon his suggestions. He's decisive like this, and after all every decision he's taken in his life have been proof of this way of thinking of his. Once Robert is on a path, you can't push him from it until he gets where he needs to go.

That's, Jace supposes, why he's Inquisitor and Jia's Consul. She has a responsibility to a certain amount of sympathy to show to her fellow Shadowhunters, but right now Jace doesn't need sympathy, he needs swiftness and efficiency, he needs her to be merciless. 

"Are you really sure this is the state of mind you want to go through this conversation with?" she asks gently, leaning in to touch the back of his hand with her fingertips. His hand twitches back in a nervous spasm as he irrationally thinks she's gonna make him let go of the t-shirt. That's not what she wanted to do, though, and she looks at him with wide surprised eyes, studying him carefully. "You seem so nervous."

"I am nervous," he answers honestly, looking down.

"You should be glad, though," she tries with another faint smile, "After all it's not like I'm about to impose anything on you."

Yes, he thinks, his lips clutching in a straight line to stop himself from speaking out, nothing but the hardest choice I'll ever make.

"I'm not sure if you know what we're trying to do, here," she goes on, without waiting for an answer from him, "We've counted ourselves, and there's too few of us. We need all the families to try and put some effort into making our numbers grow. I personally asked all the married couples I know of to put their fears and worries aside and start a family."

Jace can't help a grin to curl his lips upwards. "Is that why you called Alec? Because if it is, I must tell you: despite being married they have as many chances to procreate as marble stones do."

"We're thinking about them too," she explains, her smile unwavering, "There will be time for a new generation of kids to ascend, very soon. We've alerted the Silent Brothers, already, that we're going to need the Mortal Cup soon."

Jace frowns lightly, looking up at him. "And where are you thinking of getting the kids from? Human orphanages?"

Jia smiles again, though she struggles to hold his gaze, clear sign that she isn't as thrilled by this as she wants to let on. "We'd be offering them loving families which want nothing more than to pour all their love on them."

"You'd be kidnapping kids in substitution of the dead ones," he says bluntly. Jia finally looks down, her smile still on her face, but infinitely sadder than before. Jace realizes he hit her too hard, and he looks down too. "I understand the need of our people," he says, "I know we need new blood. But we should be honest about it. The families will be happy, and maybe some kids will be happy too, but it'll be a kidnapping and it won't be easy for anyone involved, so you better be prepared," he sighs. "Anyway... what's that got to do with me? I've..." he swallows, "I've got a kid already."

"Well, Thomas is part of the problem we need a solution for, though," Jia sighs trying to shrug the weight of Jace's words off her back, "Before we welcome new kids among us, we need to make sure we all know where we're standing."

Jace frowns, looking at her with open hostility. "Are you going to start lecturing me about Sebastian, now?"

"Not at all," Jia shakes her head, "I was honest when I told him that if he undergo the ceremony at the Hall of the Accord I'd have let him be. We don't need anything from him again. But I need something from you, Jace. I need you to tell me if you're ready or not to accept the Herondale's heritage, with all that implies."

Jace sighs wearily, passing a hand through his hair. "What are you talking about?" he asks, "Houses, places I've never seen back in England? Those places are nothing to me. You can tear them down, for all I care."

"There's more to an heritage than just properties, Jace," Jia says patiently, "There's a name, for example. The prosecution of an ancient bloodline. If you accept the Herondale name, young Thomas will be a Herondale too, and if you agree, when the time comes, you'll be given a second son, just in case."

Jace's hands clutch around the t-shirt as he watches Jia with wide eyes filled with shock and disbelief. "Just in case?" he says in a shaky voice, "Just in case _he dies_ , you mean, and the Herondale lineage dies with us?!"

"I didn't _say_ that, Jace."

"You implied it, it was enough!" Jace raises his voice, standing up nervously, "Thomas is safe. He's at the Institute with Alec and Magnus and I will never let anything happen to him."

"That's a dangerous promise to make, if you're never by his side," Jia answers coldly.

Jace shuts his mouth immediately, biting at his inner cheek. "My son," he says, his voice vibrant with rage, "Is being taken care of. Keep out of my family's business."

"All the Nephilim families' businesses are my business, now," Jia insists, her hands firmly planted on the desk, "We're trying to rebuild a generation that was cut deeper than you think, despite the part you yourself had in the cutting. We are," and she rises up, to look at him straight in his eyes from the same height, "On the verge of extinction, Jace. By the end of the year, in less than five years, if we don't do something, we will lose more families. We can't afford that. There's already too few of us. You can save the Herondale name, and we can't let sentimentality or an irrational faith in our ability to keep the peace stop us from making the right choices. One son isn't enough to rebuild a family, you will need at least two."

"There are other Herondales!" Jace steps back, overwhelmed by Jia's words, "Why does it have to be me?"

"One Herondale is lost, Jace, no one knows where he is, or if he's even aware of being an Herondale at all, and as far as Tessa's concerned, if she ever had another child again there is no chance it'd keep that family name. Jace," her voice softens up as she walks around the desk, to get closer to him, "You don't have to decide now, you can think about it. But I _have_ to ask you to think about it, you understand that, don't you? It's too important to forget about it entirely, you have to at least consider the option!"

"I can consider no option, now!" Jace replies, almost yelling now, "Do you even realize what it is that you're asking me to do? You make it so simple! You throw a family name at me, you tell me take it, Jace, or that entire line will be lost and gone forever, but no pressure, right? And you talk to me of another son! And how am I supposed to raise him, when the time comes?"

"You said yourself," Jia says hesitantly, "You've got an amazing support system, you've got your parabatai and his family. They will help you."

"Right, they'll help me! And where does Sebastian fit in this picture of yours, huh?"

Jia frowns, pursing her lips. "Jace, you can't possibly believe him to be the right companion to raise a kid."

"It doesn't matter what I believe of his parenting abilities, don't you get it? He's not passing by in my life, he's here to stay! And yet you demand to have a say in my life without even considering his presence!"

"All I have to consider are the needs of our people."

"Your _people_ is not a whole entity, it's made of single persons, and I'm one of them, and you've got no right to—"

"Jace!" Jia slams his hand against the desk hard enough to make everything on top of it rattle. Jace watches the lamp's fringed decoration swing as he clasps the hem of Sebastian's t-shirt between his trembling fingers. "I know how you feel," she goes on in a kinder voice, "You've lost something that's left the deepest hole inside of you. And if the times weren't so difficult, believe me, I'd let you be, I'd let you cry Clary's death on your own for as long as you needed, even for years if necessary. But this is a desperate time, and we're called to desperate choices, and we must try and keep them as reasonable as possible. You have to get over this."

"You make it so easy," Jace answers bitterly, looking down, "Get over it, you say. Some things you can't get over of, Consul."

"That's just not true, Jace," she replies with a sigh, "I know it may sound cynical to you, and that you don't believe it now, but time heals, and what it doesn't heal it makes bearable. When Aline went away, I—"

"Your daughter is alive," Jace interrupts her, looking up at her with hard golden eyes, "You might not see her and you might not have her close, but you know she's alive. She just got involved in your mess, as most of my generation."

"Your generation, or at least a few notable representatives of it, have managed to get involved into some pretty messy situation themselves, if I recall correctly," she answers sharply, glaring at him, "Don't push your luck, Jace. There's a lot of things I decided to let go of despite the requests of my closest friends. I could always remember I care to listen to them more than I care to listen to you."

Jace frowns, clutching his fists. "Are you threatening me?"

"Yes," she says straightforwardly, holding his gaze, "But I'm still not pressuring you into taking a decision right now. All I'm warning you about is to mind your words. If you hurt me, I will hurt you."

"And so you'll go after my brother if I say to your face that half the problems we have now, starting from the Seelie War which led to Clary's death down to the death of more than half our population, is at least partly your fault too?"

She could answer to that, Jace knows she could. She could number Sebastian's responsibilities for the current situation one after the other, she could number Jace's too. But she chooses not to.

"Sebastian," she says instead, and it's an harder blow than Jace could've ever thought it'd be, "Isn't your brother, Jace. He isn't your family. It's time you start thinking about those who really are."

*

He passed by the Institute before heading back to Sebastian’s flat. He wanted to see him, but he needed some time to himself, and most of all Jia’s words kept running through his head in circles, obsessively. Time to start thinking about his family. Time to start thinking about Tommy.

It makes him sad that he’s so young, and so unaware of things still, and yet everything concerning his life depends on what Jace will decide to do, whether he chooses to embrace the Herondale family name or not. What if he said yes? They’d be given Herondale Manor. They possibly would have to move in there. Sure, a new house could do him good. No memories haunting him down the hallways, hiding themselves in every corner of every bedroom, behind every picture hanging from the wall, every shadows in the library. 

But this has been Thomas’ house since he was born. These are the rooms he’s always known, the handrails he’s slid on, the bed he’s jumped above, the ceilings he’s woken up to every day of his life. Jace could take him away from all of this, and it wouldn’t be unfair on principle – wouldn’t it be even worse if he let the Herondale line die just to keep Tommy at the Institute? – but why, he has to ask himself, why do the choices of father have to weigh on their children’s fates so heavily?

He thought about it as he watched Tommy’s face lighten up upon seeing him come through the Institute door. His smile made him think of Clary’s. The pain in his chest made him think of Sebastian.

(Sebastian hasn’t seen Thomas once, yet. At first it was Jace – he didn’t want him to. Lately, though, it’s all Sebastian. He refuses to. The Angel only knows why, really. Sometimes Jace feels so completely at a loss with him. He can make himself impossible to crack, if he wants to.)

So he sat down with his son for a few minutes, made him bounce on his knees, brushed his deep red hair away from his freckled face, felt genuinely happy for a little while. Then Tommy asked him when he was coming back home, and just like that Jace had to leave.

He wishes he had the words to explain his son how he feels. Sometimes he thinks about it. He knows he should just picture the situation for him as simply as he possibly could, but every time he tries to come up with something he always ends up tangled up in the sticky web of his own thoughts. He should tell him “I know you miss your mom, I miss her too. Do you remember her face? Can you draw it for me? Do you want to talk about her? Do you want daddy to tell you where he runs every time things become too hard to bear for him here? Do you know there’s someone else, your mommy’s brother? Do you know he loved your mommy so much he almost damned this world to have her by his side again? Would you like to meet him?” And one after the other he should explain all this, lay it out clearly for him. Your uncle did a lot of bad things, love of my life. But he’s a warrior and he’s strong, and he can keep me up when my legs don’t manage. And you should meet him, my sweet baby boy, because it’s only fair. But then what? Where do we go from there? And how the hell will I ever tell Alec?

When he gets home, Sebastian’s getting dressed. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, bare-chested, tying his boots. Jace follows the curve of his spine with his eyes, getting distracted by the white marks of his faded runes, and then he gets mesmerized by the bright red mark still ablaze on his forearm – his Mourning rune, the first he got since he escaped from prison, the one Jace drew on him.

“Stop staring,” Sebastian says, tapping his heels on the floor a couple of times to get his boots settled well and then standing up. Jace wakes up from his little trance, but doesn’t move from the door, and waits for Sebastian to turn around and see him. “Ah,” he grin, “That’s where my t-shirt was. I was searching for it. Should’ve known it was with you when I saw yours still folded on the chair. Take it off, I need it.”

Jace takes it off in a swift movement, walking towards him, but refuses to give it back to him. “Are you going out?” he asks, leaning in to kiss him.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, receiving the kiss without properly reciprocating it. “That was the plan, yes,” he says.

“Can’t you stay home, instead?” Jace asks with pleading eyes.

Sebastian frowns, studying his face. There’s a glint of understanding in the deep of his eyes, and his voice sounds uncertain when he speaks again. “Where have you been?”

Jace sits down on the bed, holding his t-shirt between his hands. For some reason, the thought of letting go of it feels dreadful.

“The Consul called me to the Gard,” he says, “To talk about my name.”

There’s a brief silence following his words, and then Sebastian says “Ah.” His voice is kind of cold, but he doesn’t sound surprised. 

Jace turns to look at him. “You knew,” he says.

“I suspected,” Sebastian shrugs, sitting next to him, “Magnus may have mentioned something.”

“When did you talk to Magnus?” Jace frowns, “And does Alec know?”

“It’s none of your business, and I guess he doesn’t,” Sebastian answers, frowning too. “More importantly, though, I do not care,” and then he moves closer, leaving a soft kiss on the star-shaped birthmark on his shoulder. It’s a distracting move, Jace knows it. It still works. “All I care to know right now is what happened exactly.”

Jace frowns, though he doesn’t move away. “I seem to recall you telling me you didn’t want anything to do with the Clave.”

“I still don’t,” Sebastian shrugs, “But whatever it is about you interests me. Don’t make me plead, you know I don’t like to.”

Jace can’t help but chuckle a little. The fact that Sebastian is joking about it makes the mood lighter, makes him able to think about it more clearly. He starts talking easily, updating his brother on the matter since way before he was summoned to the Gard today. “There’s always been pressures on me, you know, about the Herondale heritage. Since I’m the only member left alive who can prosecute the lineage, it’s always been quite a big issue whether I’d accept it or not. Years ago I’ve been told I needed to take my decision before I turned eighteen, or else I’d lose my right to it, it being the family’s possessions, but I knew a little about Herondales and I wasn’t…” he sighs, “I had been raised by Lightwoods believing I was a Wayland and fearing I could be a Morgenstern up to that point, the name Herondale meant very little to me. I didn’t even know there was a ring,” he says, showing Sebastian the one he’s still wearing, despite having taken back the Morgenstern ring from Clary after her funeral, “So, despite being surrounded by people who kept asking me when would I make my decision, I decided to make none, and when I came of age, when the Clave had to decide whether I still had a right to the Herondale name or not, with the Seelie War preparing and whatnot, they decided to just give me more time.”

“Always the spoiled kid,” Sebastian grins, amused, “Everyone’s favorite.”

“You should’ve heard Alec when I told him,” Jace chuckles, “He was furious. He kept saying, here I am, struggling every step of the way, needing to prove my worth every time I make a move, and when it comes to him they’re all poor Jace, he’s got so much on his plate right now, let’s just give him more time even if the Law clearly states he can’t procrastinate any longer.” He chuckles again, though it’s a bitter laughter. Thinking about Alec always gives him that kind of mixed up feelings, bitterness and sadness shaken together into sweet sorrow. “Anyway,” he goes on, trying to shake the feeling off himself, “The Consul decided it’s time for me to take a decision for good. They’re aiming for some new blood in our ranks, but to spread children around they must have families to allocate them to. Which is why she called me too.”

“Wait,” Sebastian frowns, searching for his eyes, “You mean they want to give you another child.”

“This you didn’t know, huh?” Jace says with a bitter grin, “But first I have to decide if I want to change my name or not. And that’s…” he sighs, “That’s more complicated than it seems.”

“Yes,” Sebastian replies, raising an eyebrow, “That’s only because you refuse to think about it, though.”

Jace sighs again, passing a hand over his eyes. “I’m not in a mood for it,” he says.

“That’s clear,” Sebastian spits out, quite harshly.

The sound of his voice, more than the words he says, that’s what makes Jace frown and retort just as harshly. “What would you have me do?” he says, “Go on and take the Herondale name as if it meant something it doesn’t? And what if I do? Should I leave the Institute afterwards?”

“You’re already never there.”

“And what about Thomas, then? He’s there all the time.”

“Jace— What do you want me to tell you? What? Just tell me, so I can repeat it to you, because you know these stupid fights do nothing for me.”

“I want you of all people to understand!” Jace insists, raising his voice, “That I’m not ready to decide on anything! Everything’s on hold, everything, my entire life is, I can’t choose right now!”

“But you should!” Sebastian raises his voice too, to silence him, “Why wait? We all know what’s gonna happen, Jace! You’re gonna take the name, be a responsible Shadowhunter, you’ll become a Herondale with all that comes with it, and you and I…” he hesitates, biting at his tongue. Jace keeps watching him, the sun breaking in pieces and falling to the ocean in his eyes, “You and I, my brother, will have nothing else to bind us together.”

The heavy silence falling upon them cut their breaths short. Jace tries to control himself, but rage is blooming at the bottom of his soul like a snowdrop pushing through the ice, and though his voice, when is speak, is low and calm, there are infinite seas of anger licking his shores, and an unwavering commitment that Sebastian’s words could only wound, and never break. “The Consul believes you’re not my real brother. That I should start thinking about my true family, which doesn’t involve you. Are you saying you agree?”

“That’s not what I said,” Sebastian tries to defend himself, lowering his eyes, but Jace grabs him by his chin, forcing him to look up again.

“I don’t care what you said, or what you meant,” he says, “If you think I’m going to disappear, or that whatever my choice will be once I make it you won’t see me again, you got nothing of me. Nothing. Sebastian—“ he moves closer, putting his hands on his brother’s shoulders and squeezing hard as he locks their gazes together, “You’re the only thing that makes sense to me. Among all the things I love, you’re the only one I understand. This is important to me.”

“Now,” Sebastian looks away again, “Now it sure is.”

“And I want it to keep being so,” Jace insists in a pleading voice, “I can’t think of facing nothing of what’s waiting for me without you by my side. Even if I do become a Herondale, you’ll still be my brother, and I’ll still be yours. But you need to trust me on this. All I’ve wanted since I’ve found you back is to involve you with the Shadowhunters again – do you think that’s for the Shadowhunters? It’s for me. For you.” He holds his brother’s hand in his own, squeezing it. “It’s not our name binding us together. We’ve got so much more in common.” We’ve got love, he’d want to tell him too. We’ve got love and it’s burning through me and you together, can’t you feel it? But he feels that it’s too soon to say that. Sebastian wouldn’t accept it. He’d doubt it. He’d think about Clary, and Jace would end up thinking about her too, and thinking about her would lead him to question everything else, and right now he doesn’t need any more questions, he only needs answers, answers to give to Sebastian, which he thought was the answer to all his needs but turns out to be a question in himself. 

And it’s only fair, he thinks as he moves closer. It’s fair he’s a question to Jace, as sure as Jace is a question to him. As long as they keep asking each other that question, they’ll always have that. The chase for an answer.

“You can be persuasive,” Sebastian says, finally looking back at him, “When you set upon it.”

Jace smirks, relieved. He feels the change in Sebastian’s voice – he’s learned how to understand when he manages to push through his wall, and he just did. “So you trust me?”

“Now,” Sebastian raises an eyebrow, his expression suddenly stern, “Let’s not get ahead of us. You couldn’t be trusted with a pet, I’m not sure I can trust you with myself.”

“I know how to jumpstart that process,” Jace chuckles, reaching for his stele in the backpocket of his pants. He draws it swiftly, burning a mark on Sebastian’s wrists. Quite suddenly, two rings of cold fire appear around them, binding Sebastian like handcuffs.

Seemingly unimpressed with the whole thing, Sebastian looks down at his new handcuffs, and then up at Jace, raising both eyebrows. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Jace simply smirks, and leans in to kiss him on his lips. “Is that supposed to clear it up?” Sebastian asks when Jace moves away, and upon hearing that Jace laughs, and leans in one more time. This time, his kiss is deep, long and open. When he parts from Sebastian’s lips with a wet, smacking sound, Sebastian’s smirking in a mocking way, his eyes glistening with amusement. “I can’t believe it,” he says, “Your whole world is changing in front of you, and all you think about is sex.”

“It’s not like that,” Jace chuckles, kissing him again as he pushes closer, to force him to like down, “I’m not thinking about sex.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” Sebastian jokes, complying anyway.

“I’m thinking about you,” Jace says with clear, burning voice, his eyes refusing to part from Sebastian’s, his whole expression so earnest and pure it’d blind the Angel itself, “I’ve been thinking about you since this morning. All this time. All these last few weeks, Sebastian. There’s no point pretending it isn’t so,” he chuckles, settling in between his legs, “I want to show you.”

“And that’s the reason for the handcuffs?” Sebastian can’t help but laugh, shaking his head, “That’s a bit stretched, isn’t it?”

“No, that’s for trust,” Jace laughs too, kissing him again, “Stop thinking about it. I’ll take care of you.”

“You keep insisting on the point,” Sebastian’s smile turns a little fainter, a little lighter, evanescent, almost, “And I keep telling you I need no being taken care of.”

“Yes, but that’s the point,” Jace says, resting his forehead against his brother’s as he frees him of his pants and boots, “You don’t have to need it for me to want to do it.”

Sebastian looks at him, falling silent for a few seconds. His lips move imperceptibly and then he whispers "Sometimes you say things, and I'm not sure you really understand them." Jace chuckles, because it's true. He knows it is. He speaks straight out of his heart, most of the times. Which means more often than not his brain doesn't get in the way of it, and the words leave his mouth before he can fully understand them. But that's after all the very reason why they're always honest.

He leans in on him and kisses him - he's done talking for the moment. Now all he wants is what he's longed fore since he woke up this morning and watched him sleep next to him. There's only a limited amount of time he can do without touching him, at some point he exhausts his patience and he needs to get closer. There's comfort in Sebastian's body, the warmth of closeness. It gives him peace like nothing else, clears his thoughts, makes him more focused, more balanced. Touching Sebastian is like applying runes to himself, but without the burning. Especially when they do it like this.

Some days all Jace wants is to feel him inside. He wants the sharpness of the pain, the breath-taking feeling of him pushing through past the resistance of his own body. He wants the bites, and the scratching nails, he wants the chase and the running away, and those times it's Sebastian taking charge, it's him pinning him down on the bed, overwhelming him, kissing him all over. There's something wild about him that only awakens during those times, something that reminds Jace of when Sebastian was bad, fueled by demon's blood. Something savage in his eyes that melts something else inside Jace's chest, something that makes him mellow and compliant – sometimes, really, that's everything Jace wants, for Sebastian to be threatening and dangerous, for his brother to submit him, so he can forget about everything else, forget about needing to be on top of things, forget the effort it takes him, day after day, to swim through muddy pain to come up for air and breathe again. And when Jace needs that, Sebastian provides it. His fiery heart provides it turning passion into a fight between the sheets.

But there are days like this too. Days when they talk it out, whatever the problem is. Days when pain isn't an unfair force to fight against, days when Jace welcomes it, accepts it as a part of himself. Those days he doesn't need a let out for it, he'd rather keep it inside, where it belongs. All he needs to do is to remind himself that he can love. That no matter how deeply pain and loss have scarred him, he is still a being capable of love. And when they have sex those days, it's Jace taking charge of things, because just as much as he needs to pour his love on someone else to remind himself he's able to feel it, Sebastian needs to receive it, to remember how good it is. To feel loved. Not to be alone anymore.

Jace makes him part his legs, and Sebastian doesn't protest, doesn't even make him work for it as he usually always does (the list of things Sebastian does without needing some convincing before is very short, and this doesn't usually fall among them). Something's changed in his eyes when Jace told him he didn't have to need care for Jace wanting to provide it. There's something powerful and intense in the way he looks at Jace now, something that makes Jace want to extend this moment as long as he can.

So he takes his time. Sebastian's being compliant, and this means he's ready, that Jace could just push through and penetrate him right away, but he holds back. He moves against him, slowly, kissing him deep. Their bodies move together like waves chasing one another, they swing and rock and the sea is roaring outside, the seagull screaming as they fly defiantly through the howling wind. They're one with the house, hopeless wanderers as they all are, one with the sea, loud and furious as it is, one with the storm preparing in the sky, one with the seagulls, stubbornly fighting invisible monsters. 

Sebastian doesn't make a sound, but Jace doesn't expect him to. His pleasure is usually silent and discreet. That's why it's twice as rewarding when Jace manages to tear a moan out of his lips. They're rare and precious, those little signs of appreciation. Jace runs towards them, uses the idea of them to chase after something. With his eyes closed, he moves on top of his brother's body making a northern start out of satisfying him. It works, because when Sebastian starts enjoying it more fully he feels it on his own skin, a change in static electricity, in the consistency of the air surrounding them. He feels it creak and then explode, and Sebastian's hard underneath him, his erection pressing against Jace's stomach, rock hard and pulsing with need.

He's got his arms pushed aside and he can't touch himself, so, before pleasure turns to frustration, Jace wraps his own erection, together with Sebastian's, in his fist, and starts stroking them together. Sebastian opens his eyes and looks at him, he looks so focused, so clear-minded, Jace envies him that. He stares back, thinking maybe, just maybe, if I keep looking some of his calmness will pass from him to me, and I'll absorb it.

"Stop playing me like this," Sebastian says after a while, stopping to move abruptly, "I hate you when you're in such a mood. You become insufferable." Jace grins, and Sebastian wraps his legs against his hips, forcing him to stop moving too. "Give it to me," he says.

At this point, it's all Jace wants, and he's tired of waiting too.

He pulls back just enough to settle better between Sebastian’s thighs. Anticipation clouds his mind, making him restless. The head of his cock pressed against Sebastian’s opening, he hesitates for a moment, taking it all in – Sebastian’s intense, steady gaze, the warmth of his body, how closeness makes him feel realer than anything else – and then he thrusts in, basking in the hissing sound Sebastian lets go, that lets him know he hit him where it counted, in the special place where pain mixes with pleasure, smoothing out the outline of things, making them softer to the touch.

They don’t do it like this often, and Sebastian’s body opposes some resistance to Jace’s erection. It feels so good Jace couldn’t put it into words if he wanted to, so, instead of speaking, he exhales. And Sebastian chuckles, though there’s a pinch of pain in it. Jace feels him move his hands, and he knows he’d want to stroke his hair, now. Sebastan’s got these moments, he can be rough and he can be distant and at times he’s cold though he never makes him feel lonely, but there are moments he manages to let on such an extreme tenderness, and every time that tenderness expresses itself through gestures – he touch his hair, kisses him, strokes the back of his hands. It’s in the tiny things he expresses his affection towards him, never in the grand gestures. Jace is thankful to him for that. Grand gestures were Clary’s field. They try not to mud that up.

“You can’t move,” he reminds him with a short laughter, as he starts pushing inside him slowly.

“Yeah, I know,” Sebastian sighs, moving his arms again, “It’s annoying.”

“Too much?” Jace asks, moving closer, asking for a kiss. 

Sebastian hesitates, then kisses him back. “Nah,” he says afterwards, “Not too much.”

He relaxes under Jace’s touch, lets him handle everything, since he cannot. His hands bound together, holding on the sheets, he just keeps his legs parted, welcoming him inside, and Jace thrusts inside him, kissing him like he couldn’t stop, as if breathing from his lips. The wave washing them ashore mounts like the tide, ever stronger, and they move to the sound of the sea, as if they were dancing to the soundtrack played by an invisible orchestra. They dance and they dance and the music rises in volume and pace, and it’s not just the sound of the sea anymore, it’s their voices calling pleasure by its name, yes, yes, brother, yes, while the bed creaks and the curtains swell with the wind, and as he loses himself inside Sebastian warmth Jace thinks that there’s something more important than a name to make a family, something deeper binding people together, something written not in the blood, but in the soul, something you can’t change, no matter how far you run from it, how hard you try.

It binds him to Alec, to the ghost of Clary’s smile.

It binds him to Thomas, and to the memory of the only father he ever knew, no matter how cruel.

And it binds him to Sebastian, and nothing will ever change it, because nothing can wipe it away. Just like a permanent rune.

Sebastian comes silently – he always does. He just holds his breath and lets himself go, his muscles clutching in spasms around Jace’s erection, squeezing his orgasm out of him. Jace is loud for the both of them, he moans and gasps with a broken voice, overwhelmed by pleasure and the heat of their bodies pressed together. Sebastian laughs again when he hears him, and then waits for the rune on his wrists to fade away to raise both his arms and hold Jace’s head between his hands. He presses an half-wet kiss on his forehead, and then he says “You’re ridiculous,” and Jace laughs too, because it sounds like something sweet, and he likes when Sebastian tells him something sweet. He likes that it’s unlike him, but he sometimes finds himself saying these things, just because Jace inspires him.

He rests his forehead against Sebastian’s shoulder for a while, slowly breathing in and out until his heartbeat rate slows down enough. Then he rolls off him, a stupid smile stretched on his lips. The sun is slowly setting and the light’s turning golden in the bedroom. The curtains swing with the breeze casting weird wavy shadows on the ceiling, and Jace watches them silently for a while, feeling something grow inside him, and then bloom like a spring flower, colorful and big. “I want you to do something,” he says, turning his head to look at Sebastian. He looks back at him, offering him a puzzled look as an answer. “Draw the loyalty rune on me.”

Sebastian frowns and backs off as he always does when he thinks he said something stupid. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, “I don’t need it.”

“I want it, though,” Jace insists, sitting up and retrieving his stele. He offers it to Sebastian without second thoughts. “Please.”

“Are you scared you’ll betray me?” Sebastian asks sharply, looking away.

“I’m not,” he shakes his head, moving closer, “I don’t know if I can explain this to you. But I’m not scared of anything anymore. There’s no room in me for fear, at this point in my life.”

“You’re too young to be so cynic.”

“It’s not a matter of age, but of things I’ve seen. And lost,” he smiles kindly, “I just can’t lose anyone else, Sebastian. What the Consul told me today— I have to start thinking about my family. And you’re a part of it. And you’re what’s holding me together, now, and though I’m not scared I’ll betray you, and though I know I won’t leave you, I still wanna be bound to you. So please,” he offers him his neck, tilting his head a bit, “Bind me to you.”

Sebastian turns to look at him, studying his expression, the serenity in his eyes, the honesty of his smile. “That’s very close to your heart,” he says, “I’ll be a stronger one.” Jace just nods. “And everyone will see it.” Jace nods again. “They’ll know, Jace,” Sebastian insists, and Jace lets out a short laughter.

“They already do,” he says, “And, if they don’t, it’s about time they learn about it.”

Sebastian sits still for a few seconds more. Jace knows he’s weighing his words, letting them sink in. He doesn’t worry, though. He just waits. And after a while Sebastian takes the stele from his hand and draws the rune on his neck, just a little above his shoulder. Jace closes his eyes, exhaling as his skin burns softly. It’s strangely pleasant. It feel right.

“Did she talk about me?” Sebastian asks after a while.

Jace opens his eyes, looking back at him. “Who?”

“The Consul,” Sebastian explains. He’s not looking at Jace anymore and he looks a little uncomfortable. It’s quite amusing. “Magnus… when we talked about it, he might’ve mentioned that there was a chance they’d let me, you know. Keep my last name. And possession of the Morgenstern family heritage.”

Jace tries not to, but his expression and the sound of his voice, so naively stubborn, is so funny he can’t stop laughing a little. “Now you wanna be a Shadowhunter again?”

“I didn’t say that,” Sebastian answers, frowning.

“But you wanna be a Morgenstern.”

Sebastian sighs, passing a hand over his face and then his fingers through his hair. In the golden light of the sunset they shine like silver, they’re mesmerizing. “I don’t know what I wanna be, Jace,” he says, “I’m trying to understand. It might prove useful to have a place to start from.”

Jace moves closer, leaving a little kiss on his neck, just enough to catch his attention, to draw his eyes on himself again. “The Consul told me they won’t ask of you,” he says. He can’t lie to him. “I’m sorry.”

Sebastian tries not to show it, but the answer stings. He looks down and nods, and says nothing else. Jace smiles to himself, knowing something’s happened, something’s changed in Sebastian’s heart, in his desires. He feels one step closer to the magical moment he’s been praying for since he found him again, the magical moment in which everything will fall into place and everything will finally make sense, and he’ll be able to look back and see that some things have been good and some others have been bad, but in the end it’ll all have been worth it.

It won’t be today, and it certainly won’t be tomorrow, but it will be. That’s a nice enough thought to hold on to.


End file.
